


I love you

by Missthang616



Category: Whiskey Cavalier (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21783004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missthang616/pseuds/Missthang616
Summary: Multiple-oneshots of all the times Frankie and Will say I love you.
Relationships: Will Chase/Frankie Trowbridge
Comments: 15
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!

People might be surprised to learn that it was Frankie, not Will, to say the words first. Many people would think that Frankie was incapable of love at all; that it was likely that Will may fall for Frankie, but that the feelings would never be returned.

The first time she spoke those words, it wasn't after an adrenaline fuelled chase. It wasn't after a startling injury. It wasn't after sex or something sentimental. It was just a regular, average day at Will's apartment. Will was sitting on the sofa, going over a case. Frankie, who had slept in late, stumbled into the living room. She slept hard in the days after a big case. Will didn't look up. "Just made coffee. It's still hot if you want some."

Frankie wandered into the kitchen, making herself some coffee and glancing at the table. A loaf of bread was sitting on it, an obvious indicator that Will wanted Frankie to eat. She sighed dramatically (Will took no notice) and put two slices in the toaster while her coffee cooled down some.

"I bought strawberries while you were sleeping," Will called from his spot on the sofa. "They're in the fridge."

Frankie verified, taking one from the fridge and popping it in her mouth. Strawberries were one of the few food items she regularly consumed with little to no complaint. If Will really wanted her to eat while on a mission, this was the food he used to do it.

Will was always doing things like that; buying her food she liked to make sure Frankie took care of herself, or making her coffee, or always having her back at work and out of work.

They were nearly out of jam, so Frankie left it for Will, opting to just have butter instead. She paused, realizing she'd just put Will's needs above her own without even thinking about it.

Of course, this caused her to think about it.

What exactly did Will mean to her?

A rush of words assaulted her brain. What term worked best? What label described exactly what she felt towards Will? Will was special; she had known that for a long time now. But what word applied best?

**Colleague** : an associate in a profession or in a civil or ecclesiastical office

**Friend** : One attached to another by affection or esteem.

**Affection** : a moderate feeling or emotion

**Synonyms** : Devotion, fondness, passion, love.

**Love** : (1) **:** strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties (2) **:** attraction based on sexual desire **:** affection and tenderness felt by lovers (3) **:** affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests (4) : unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another.

Frankie nodded to herself, abandoned her toast, and moved into the living area so she could see Will properly. "Will?"

Will blinked at the file and looked up at Frankie. He didn't say anything for a while, and when it became obvious that Frankie wasn't going to say what was on her mind without a response, he nodded. "What's up Frank's?."

"I love you" she says softly causing Will to grin

Getting up, walking towards her.

"I love you too!" He said pulling her into a kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is pretty much just smut... You're welcome 😂🤷🏻♀️

**"** Will." Frankie's voice was breathless as she pressed up. Wills firm body hovered above her. They'd both abandoned their clothes some time ago. They were scattered in a trail from the sofa to his bedroom. Although they'd been together for over six months, and in that six months they'd done this many times, she was still easily overwhelmed by the feeling of Will's warm skin against hers.

Wills lips were on her jaw, then on her neck. His hands skated down her breasts, across her sides. Wills lips followed, tongue circling around her nipples, continuing a path down, pausing to suck sharply at her hipbone. Frankie gasped, her hips lifting off the bed involuntarily. Will smirked against her skin. He paused tantalizingly above where her panty line would be if she was wearing any. "Will," Frankie whined. "Don't tease."

Will obliged, lowering to take her pussy into his mouth. She lost herself in the sensation, hand scrabbling for Will's hair. Her fingers twisted in it lightly, holding but not pulling, well not pulling too hard anyways.

He pulled back shortly after, slithering up her body to press a long, hard kiss to her lips. After making sure she was more than ready for him, Will was nestled between her legs, pressing in slowly.

She loved having Will inside her. Will was thick, and hot, and filled her, all of her, in a way that Frankie never expected to want or need. She wanted more of him. She wanted all of him.

Sex with Will was always different. Sometimes it was furious and desperate. They'd sometimes not even get all their clothes off before Will was thrusting into her, his movements shallow and fast. Sometimes it was sweet and languid, Will teasing by keeping his movements slow and long. He would pull nearly all the way out before filling her again, drawing it out until she begged.

Tonight, it was tender.

She would never get used to having Will inside her, but this was even better than usual. "God, Will," she gasped as Wills cock found that magic bundle of nerves. She strained up towards Will, body shifting, trying to open herself more to let Will go deeper.

Wills thrusts quickened, and Frankie's body rose up to meet him. Her hand moved blindly for her clit but Will batted it away. "Will," she pleaded. "I need…"

"I know," he said, voice low. Wills hand moved down Frankie instead, rubbing in rhythm with his thrusts. Frankie's head fell back to the bed heavily, eyes falling closed.

"Yes, just like that," she praised. "Just like…keep…"

"I love it when I manage to make you incoherent," Will breathed teasingly.

" _Fuck_ , Will."

The heat was building, and it didn't take much longer for her to come, hips lifting off the bed, hands scrabbling in the covers. "Will, love you, I love you, God," she moaned, breathless. Will wasn't far behind and he collapsed limply on top of Frankie minutes later. Both were breathing heavily. Will eventually pulled out, cleaned both of them up, and tugged Frankie close.

"I love you too boo"

Exhausted, Frankie closed her eyes and easily drifted off in Will's arms.


	3. Chapter 3

**"** I don't want to stay here... I want to be back at work. It's just a few stitches anyways... You're not gonna be able to work without me. And I'll be bored here without you"

**"** You need to heal properly, and I'm sure we can do without you for a few days."

"Thank you, for validating how valuable I am to my job."

Will brushed the comment aside. "Oh, you know what I meant."

"Regardless," Will said, finishing off his coffee and dropping the mug in the sink, "I have to go. I can't sit around the apartment all day and entertain you just because you're bored."

"Why not?" Will ignored her. "An interesting case could come up?." Will continued to ignore her. Frankie stood and wandered into the kitchen. "If you stay home we can sit around and watch crappy TV all day."

"Oh yes, that's a good reason to lose a day of saving the world. Watching crappy TV."

"We can go do something," Frankie tried instead. "Go…walking. You're always insisting that walking is a nice, relaxing thing to do."

"It is," Will confirmed. "You go do that until I get home."

Frankie stepped closer, crowding Will against the table. "You can stay home and fuck me," she said, voice low. "I can assure you I am very amicable to that idea."

Will seemed to consider this for a moment, eyes traveling slowly down Frankie's georgous body. "You want to stay in bed with me all day?"

Frankie stepped closer. "Bed, sofa, table. We could try a variety. We've not tried the table yet."

Will leaned up to press a hard kiss to Frankie's lips. Her arms instantly went around Will, tugging him closer. Her tongue probed at Will's lips and he obliged, allowing his lips to part further so she could fully explore his mouth. Frankie was pleased with herself for winning but several moments later Will pulled away. "As nice as that is," he said, grinning, "I still have to go to work."

" _Will_ , I'm _bored_."

"You sound like a child."

"Is it so bad that I'll miss you if you go?"

"No." He gently pushed Frankie away and went back to bustling around the kitchen. "But I'm sure you can entertain yourself for a few hours."

Frankie followed, catching Will's hand. "Please? I love you?" The words came out more like a question than anything else.

Will smiled at her fondly, bending down, and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "The day will fly by, then I'll be back and we can finish what you started. I love you"

Frankie huffed and sulked off to the sofa but muttered "love you, be safe" as she went

Will rolled his eyes at her dramaticness and followed, pecking her quickly on the lips before leaving. Frankie stared after him morosely and collapsed fully on the sofa, staring at the ceiling and wondering what she's was supposed to do all day now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one a little different, it's the five times Will told Frankie he loved her and she couldn't say it back and the one time she did.

**ONE.**

It's not like she doesn't know it, if she's honest.

He hasn't made a real secret of it in the off time that is their private lives. She thinks a lot of that is mainly the knowledge that things can disappear in a blink. One wrong move, one wrong decision and everything can shatter. He's kind of taken that lesson to heart. (With his brother Kevin dying)

And she can see the words on the tip of his tongue. She can see the way they climb his throat some days, when she looks up from winning another sparring match with him; when she groans at the sound of the alarm and rolls into him; when they've had a hell of a case and they're sitting side by side on the plane.

It's a matter of time.

So when they're cuddled on the couch, his fingertips stroking up and down her arm she's not surprised when he cups her chin and meets her eyes with that boyish grin that drew her to him in the first place.

"I love you."

Her mouth opens but no sound comes out. She can feel the way her eyes widen, the way she starts to panic, and he just leans in to press his lips softly to hers.

"I'm in love with you," he whispers against her mouth.

She kisses him again, harder, and hopes he doesn't realize she can't say it back.

* * *

**TWO.**

It's not that she doesn't love him back. It's not that her feelings aren't as intense if not more so. And really, it's not that she's a coward. She knows she's had moments, knows that they've passed her by and knows that she's not going to have many more despite his seemingly endless patience.

He will break. They all break when they realize that the words will never come.

She'd need less than one to count the number of people who have actually heard the words come out of her mouth. She tosses them around, at Jai and Susan, and even Kelly on occasion, but never him.

(And maybe that should have been their first clue, the first idea that there was something solid and real between them. She can't throw words at him that don't mean anything, can't joke or pretend or do anything other than mean every syllable that comes out of her mouth.)

He doesn't have that problem. He says it when they wake up, when they go to bed. He makes sure to say it before they go into a fire fight and every time he has to send her out to interrogate a suspect. It's something she'd expected, to be honest, so it's not really a surprise.

And every time he says it she can just look at him. If they're alone, she makes sure to press an emotion-filled kiss to his mouth. If they're not, she squeezes his hand, offers him a smile she hopes explains even a portion of what she feels.

She hates that it's not good enough.

* * *

**THREE.**

She knows she has to say it.

She's bleeding out in a damn ambulance and she knows this is her last opportunity. She's not going to make it, she's really not. She knows the wound's too jagged, that she's too tired, and all of it is crashing around her.

And she tries. She does.

She opens her mouth to say it, forces her eyes to stay open. Instead, her voice chokes and she cannot gather enough breath even with her determination. She is damn stubborn though and she sucks in air and tries again.

"Shh," he says, sliding his fingers through her hair. "Frank's, shh."

But she doesn't want to 'shh'. She has things to say, things he needs to know before she passes out or passes on. She lets her eyes close for a moment, holds on, pushes the pain back and then opens them again.

His hand cups her cheek. "It's okay."

It's not. It's really not. He needs to know-

"Frankie."

His eyes are filling and she wishes she could reach for him.

"I know," he says, his voice cracking. "Honey, I know. And when you wake up, you can tell me okay? But not like this. Please, not like this."

She feels the tears flood her eyes, feels the way one leaks down her cheek. "Will," she manages to croak.

"I know."

Then her world goes black.

* * *

**FOUR.**

She'd promised herself that if she got the chance to come back to New York, to the Dead Drop, to her team that has became her family that she'd say it. She'd say it all the time, to each of them because life is too damn short and Alex Ollerman taught her that in ways she had not wanted. But with him she just… can't.

It's driving her insane.

He's the one person she needs to tell, the one who deserves the words and she cannot make her voice work. It leaves her cranky and withdrawn and he shouldn't be as understanding as he is.

Because she's done with being unable to say it.

She's done with the idea that she could never put those three words in a sentence when they really matter.

And yet time and time again, she chokes.

When he's made her dinner; when they're wandering the City streets; when he slides his hand down her back on a bad day and wraps her up in his arms after the hard cases; it all collides in her heart along with the heavy guilt and knowledge that the words won't come. And he's been so infinitely understanding she wants to strangle him.

Why hasn't he pushed? Why doesn't he want to hear them when he can say them so easily? How is he not wondering what the hell is wrong with her? Because he's not telling her she's emotionally stunted, not trying to analyze his way into her head and she honestly doesn't know what to do and how to handle it.

"Because you'll say it when you're ready," he tells her calmly. "It's not a question of 'if', Frankie. It's 'when'. I can wait."

But he has been, forever and too long.

"It doesn't matter," he says when she voices her concern. "I don't need the words to know you're in this. You show me every day. And that's enough."

She can't help wondering how long that'll last.

* * *

**FIVE.**

It takes her a long time to realize it's just too much.

What she feels, how she feels, the intensity and the strength… It's not that she can't say the words, it's that they're not enough.

There are not words for the way she feels about him. There's no way, no combination of English that will explain to him what he means to her and how she feels. She doesn't know how to tell him about the way it wells up in her chest and makes it difficult to speak. She doesn't know how to explain the way she feels when she wakes up next to him, when he kisses her good night, when he sneaks into the shower.

'I love you' just isn't enough.

'I love you' doesn't tell him that he holds the entirety of her heart. 'I love you' doesn't help him see that he could utterly and completely destroy her. 'I love you' doesn't tell him how it feels to have someone to rely on, someone to come home to, someone who lets her be when she needs it and sits quietly with her when she just can't be alone.

It doesn't change the fact that she wants to say it. He deserves those words and despite his endless patience, she knows he's waiting for them.

She hates that she's not strong enough to say them.

* * *

**\+ ONE.**

Their relationship is, of course, not perfect and even he hits the end of his rope. Storming out isn't really his style but after they've had a go at each other, said things they are both so painfully aware they don't actually mean and he tells her softly that he's going to take a walk, she finds herself collapsing to the living room floor.

She'd known this day was coming.

She has a good cry in the middle of the floor, lets the abandonment wash over her for a moment before she forces herself to get her act together. Her first stop is, of course, his bedroom. She pulls out her drawer that he cleared out for her and her bag that she keeps their in case she has to pack for a mission while at his apartment from under his bed trying very hard not to notice the way her hands shake as she tucks her things inside.

She's almost done her drawer when the door opens again.

"Frankie?"

She doesn't answer, doesn't have to. He finds her a moment later, his brows knitting together as he takes her in.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving us both the trouble."

Because this fight was bad. It's not their first, of course, not even the first since she'd come back, unsettled and nervous. But the things she'd said to him, the way he'd walked out… She knows the writing's on the wall this time.

"The trouble of what?"

"Deciding who leaves first."

"Neither of us is going anywhere."

Her head snaps up, finds irritation and annoyance all over his face. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. It sticks up in the way that always makes her smile, but she can't this time. She straightens, holds herself tall and straight. She will take his words and walk away because God knows she's done enough damage.

"I love you," he tells her. "Why would I want to leave? Why would I want you to leave?"

"Because everyone does, eventually," she finally blurts. It's the one secret she's kept, the one thing she's never put a voice to. He knows, of course, because he has a way about him, but she's never actually said the words.

"I'm too difficult, I work too hard, I'm too emotionally closed off, the list goes on."

"The list is stupid."

That makes her blink, makes her stop.

"You are complicated, yes. You are often stubborn to the point of foolhardiness. You are careful with your emotions and very protective of your heart, but you are not emotionally closed off. Not anymore."

He's so passionate about it, his words vibrating in her chest and making her heart race. He steps towards her, reaches for her, and she flinches back instinctively. She'd said terrible things, how can he even want to touch her?

"But you are compassionate and loving. You work day in and day out to show the people you love that you need them in your life and you never let any one of them feel like less that you believe them to be."

She sniffles.

"Frankie, I don't love you because things are easy. I love you because they're not. Because you make it worth fighting for and working at. Because I think you are amazing, Francesa, no matter what you've been through and what you will go through. I want to be here, beside you, for every step of that process, even when I want to absolutely throttle you."

She chokes on a laugh and lets him pull her into his arms.

"I love you because of you. Period."

And she looks up at him through her tears, finds him staring down at her with that terrifying adoration. She leans up and presses her mouth to his, soft where she thinks it could have been desperate.

When they pull away, breathing heavily, she barely registers the way her mouth opens and the words that come tumbling out.

"I love you, too.


	5. Chapter 5

_Fwip...ssst._

_Fwip...ssst._

_Krunkle...krunkle. Fwip...ssst._

_Krink...krink...krink. Fwip...ssst._

Will sighed in annoyance looking up from where he sat with a case file in his lap, unable to focus on the words. After five minutes of the continuous noises emanating from the chair across from him, he finally found he could no longer stand it. He huffed, his brow twitching irritably as he glared at the brunette. She remained oblivious, happily humming away as she continued folding.

"Frankie, would you _please_ stop that?" The former assassin/CIA operative looked up from her work with a raised eyebrow. She looked him over once before turning her attention back down to the colorful paper on the table in front of her.

_Fwip...ssst._

"Nope," she deadpanned. Will grabbed at his hair, silently fuming, his jaw set stubbornly as he continued to glare at her, unnoticed. Finally, he sighed, standing up and storming from the bar, file in hand. He stomped loudly up the stairs and into the office. He was relieved to find it empty and proceeded to flop down on the one chair in the room. He flipped open the file and continued reading from where he left off.

All throughout the day, the folding continued, and seeing as how Will couldn't just spend the whole time cooped up in his office.

No sooner had he walked into the pool room, he was startled by something hitting him square in the face. He grit his teeth as he bent down to pick up the discarded paper airplane that had been thrown. He looked around, seeing no one in sight, but having no doubt about exactly _who_ threw it. He muttered a few choice words under his breath as he unfolded the crumpled paper, smoothing out the much abused tip. He frowned.

_'Roast beef on rye, easy on the mayonaise, provolone'_

He glared daggers at the written message, before crumpling it into a tight ball and tossing it in the garbage can. He then left to go get lunch at the sandwich shop down the street; one for him, and one for her. 

Walking back into the bar, where Frankie sat waiting expectantly. She smirked at him as he set her meal down on the table next to her assortment of papers.

"I hope you're happy," he grumbled around his sandwich. She quickly nodded her thanks. They ate together in silence.

The rest of the day, Will found himeslf hit with colorful plane after colorful plane. Anytime Frankie needed to speak to him, she'd write it down in scrawled letters and a plane would find it's way to his face. It was getting increasingly annoying, and he found himself cautiously looking around every corner and jumping at every moving shadow, fearing that another plane would find him.

After about the thirtieth plane, he could no longer take it. With an exasperated sigh he left the dead drop, not caring where he was going, just as long as he could escape those damned planes!

After a while of aimlessly walking.

A tired sigh escaped his lips as he sat down on a park bench, his mind wandering.

He was interrupted from his thoughts as he felt something hit the back of his head. He groaned as he heard the soft thud of yet another paper plane, followed by the sound of footsteps. Frankie didn't utter a single word as she sat down, but he could still feel her keen eyes watching him.

"Frank's, what are you doing? Are you _still_ going on with those planes of yours?" She didn't reply. Finally he looked up, only to find she was now looking down at the plane between them. He raised an eyebrow. She still remained staring at the plane, refusing to look up, green eyes unwavering. He sighed, reaching out to pluck it from the grass. Slowly, and making a big show of opening it with flourish. From the corner of his eye he saw a small smile grace her lips before she looked down, hiding behind her hair, a lite blush coating her cheeks. He looked down at the creased paper. His eyes scanned over the familiar handwriting.

_'I love you.'_

His heart seemed to stop, before swelling in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace.

She looked up only to find he was grinning up at her. She sighed contently, resting her head upon his chest, listening to his steady breathing.

"I love you too," he whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will and Frankie trying for a baby.... May be sensitive to some, read at your own risk.

_Not_ pregnant

That's the message that greets her when she looks at the white pregnancy stick held in-between two fingers. The rings on Frankie's left hand glisten in the early morning light coming in through the window and a sadness gathering in her heart.

She throws the offending object in the small waste basket next to the vanity. Placing her hands on the table, she chances a look in the mirror gasping at the sight that meets her. Biting into her bottom lip, she turns on the faucet, splashing water onto her quite flushed face.

She loves him, like _over the moon_ loves him, but whenever she gets _this_ message from a pregnancy stick, it's like someone's stabbing a knife through her heart. And quite frankly, she's running out of space to jab that knife into these days.

They have been trying to get pregnant for this past year and she's has researched all the _do's_ and _don'ts_ in connection with trying to have a baby. She has been measuring her temperature, bought an ovulation predictor kit, been taking her vitamins and of course been having sex.

 _Lots_ of sex.

But the message is still the same; she's _not_ pregnant.

"Frankie?" his voice asks through the closed bathroom door. "Babe, you all right in there?" Will adds with that tenderness of his apparent in his tone of voice.

She takes a cleansing breath before even contemplating a reply. "Yeah…," she sighs. "I'm fine, Will. I'll be right out."

"I'll get the coffee started then," he responds flatly.

She combs her fingers through her hair before tying it up in a ponytail. Clad in a pair of black yoga pants and a Will's old FBI t-shirt she pushes out a much needed breath before exiting the bathroom.

What she meets on the other side of the door makes her smile.

 _Will_.

"I thought you were getting the coffee started?" she asks, arms crossed across her chest unable to contain the smile on her lips.

Will is sitting on the edge of their bed, nodding his head repeatedly as if _that_ answers her original question. "The coffee can wait, _this_ can't." he adds moving a hand between them.

" _This_?" She asks letting her arms fall to her sides, while simultaneously arching a questioning eyebrow at him.

"The test," he states. The statement is delivered with such a determination that she realizes that he's hurting just as much as she is.

She shrugs her shoulders minimally before crossing the room to sit down next to him on the bed, their shoulders touching. Resting her head on Will's shoulder, she tells him what he already knows, "I'm _not_ pregnant."

"I'm sorry, baby," he sighs turning his head sideways to brush his lips against her forehead. "So sorry," Will apologizes.

"It's not your fault," she refuses to let him play the blame game.

They have been through this game for the past year now. They've yelled at each other, cried together, she's kicked him out of their bedroom and he has spent one night on the couch with Boo. Just like Frankie has once spent the night on Susan's couch before smarting up and actually talking it out with him.

Wrapping one arm around her back and clasping her hand with his on her thigh, he makes a suggestion that he's been thinking about ever since seeing the specialist a couple of days ago. "Maybe we should look into adoption or maybe even a surrogate...?" Wills question is abruptly cut off when Frankie suddenly pulls out of his embrace.

"No!" she snaps standing in front of him making even poor Boo wake up from his deep slumber with weary eyes. "Will, just no!" She stares at him with a look in her eyes that kills him.

* * *

Two years ago they had gotten married at the Prauge Castle Jai had walked her down the aisle, and Will hadn't been able to take his eyes off of his beautiful bride.

They are homeowners and dog owners – the only thing missing is the pitter patter of little feet on their hardwood floors.

The realization that Frankie can't give Will what they both so desperately want is killing her, it's literally _killing_ her. Almost as much as the fact that he's just suggested they use another woman's womb to carry _their_ baby to term.

"Honey, please…," he pleads with her, interlocking his fingers as if he is praying, which maybe he is.

"No, Will!" she exclaims whipping a hand through the air cutting off his insistent pleading. "It's bad enough that I feel incomplete as a woman, but to actually have someone else carry your baby to term…"

"Carry _our_ baby to term," will interjects accentuating the _'our'_ before getting off of the bed. He walks a couple of steps to cup her face in his hands. "I love _you_ , I love _our_ life together and I want _you_ to be happy," he brushes the pads of his thumbs across her wet cheeks.

"I _am_ happy, Will," she tells him vehemently. "Okay, maybe not _over the moon_ because of the results, but I wouldn't change anything."

"Frank's…," he presses his forehead against hers on a deep exhalation of breath.

"I have _you_ , I have _Boo_ and I have _our_ life together, and if that's all I'll get then that's more than enough. I'm tired of feeling like this, incomplete, not good enough, envious of pregnant women, I hate it, and I don't want to do it anymore."

"Then let's focus on each other, eh?" Will suggests pressing his lips against her forehead. "Maybe _not_ focusing on getting pregnant will improve our odds?"

"You really believe _that_?" She asks hiding her face in the spot where his neck meets his throat.

"I'll try to," he tells her, rubbing her back with steady strokes of his hands.

"Me too."

* * *

an hour later Will has gone for a walk with Boo, he had asked if Frankie wanted to tag along with them, but she had declined.

But why?

Their mantle is covered in framed photographs of their friends and family. One of them in particular catches Frankie's eye, as her gaze takes in the familiarity of it all. The photograph had been taken a couple of months back – at Standishs most recent birthday party.

They were all wearing party hats; sitting on the couch in Susan's living room, Standish sitting in-between Will and Frankie – the three of them wearing huge smiles on their faces.

Grabbing the photographed frame off of the mantel, Frankie slides a fingertip across the faces looking back at her.

Wishing she could give Standish a sibling as he would put it.

Her thoughts are suspended however by the sound of the front door opening and shutting shortly after. She returns the photographed frame to the mantle, as she hears the sound of Boo's paws padding across the hardwood floors.

"Hey Buddy," she whistles at Boo. Crouching down on the floor and clapping her hands on her knees is all the incitement the white Shih Tzu named Boo needs.

His wagging tail and tongue hanging out from the side of his mouth tells her that will has given their boy a good workout. He's a good boy; Boo is.

He instantly knows when she is sad. Lately when she has bundled up on the couch feeling desperate and desolate in her quest to become pregnant, the dog has made himself comfortable on the floor next to her.

"Good boy," she praises him running her hands through the wayward curls that are Boo's charm – that and then his ability to instinctively know when she needs him.

"Can anyone join in?" Will asks leaning his body against the doorframe. The careful smile displayed on his lips tells her that he's still reeling from their conversation in the bedroom. As much as she is hurting by _not_ being pregnant, Will is hurting just as much if not more for not being able to _get_ her pregnant.

"Sure."

Much later, Boo is cuddled up in front of the crackling fireplace, while Will is resting his back against the couch with Frankie cradled in-between his legs. His arms are wrapped around her waist on top of the blanket covering her from the waist down.

"I love you…," he whispers against the side of her face.

She inhales a shaky breath before reciprocating, "I love you too."

"What we have," he begins taking a deep breath before continuing. "Means more to me than anything else," he grasps her left hand in his, running his thumb over her rings.

"I know," she tells him nodding her head. "I feel the same way…," she lets the words hang in the air between them letting Will know that she's holding something back.

"But…?" he prods her wanting her to continue, burying his nose in her dark loosecurls.

"But I can't stop, I don't _want_ to stop," she turns around in his arms so that she's facing him with a determined look on her face. "I _want_ to have a baby, Will. I want to have _our_ baby," she leans into him, framing his face with her hands.

"Frankie…," he sighs pressing his forehead against hers. He wants that too, God only knows how much he really _wants that_. But what he doesn't want is to watch her turn herself inside out trying to get pregnant.

He has watched her blame herself _and_ him in their attempts to create a family together. Something so instrumental to their happiness shouldn't hurt so much. If there's one thing he won't let happen, then it's to cause her anymore pain.

 _She_ has been through enough.

 _They_ have been through enough.

"Hey, look at me, Will," she tells him leaning back and making him look her in the eyes. "You have given me _everything_ ; your _heart_ , your _love_ , our _home_ , _Boo_ …everything," she tells him taking a deep breath. "I know we talked about not trying for a while, but I want to keep trying, at least for a little while longer…," she's momentarily cut off by Will's objecting voice.

"Frankie…," he utters pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't want to see you beating yourself up anymore."

"I won't…," she declares with a finality in her tone of voice that tells him she's made up her mind.

"Baby…," he groans closing his eyes momentarily.

"Shh…," she shushes him by placing an index finger across his lips. "I love you, Will Chase, and I want to try again."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leans into his muscular chest taking his mouth with hers in a gentle lick that takes his breath away. Once he's gathered his shattered senses, he grasps the hem of the shirt she stole from him so long ago, and peels it off of her body leaving her clad in a black bra and yoga pants.

"Fuck…," he groans into her mouth when his back hits the floor. Seconds later, his throat is being marked with her lips, tongue and teeth. Sitting up straight, astride his groin, Will presses his left hand against her heart, the cool metal of his wedding band connecting with her warm skin.

Pressing their lips together, no words are spoken as their bodies are molded together in an act that for the first time in a long time doesn't seem mechanical.

* * *

**_"_** So, have you decided?" Dr. Evans asks a couple of days later. Will and Frankie are sitting next to each other, their fingers intertwined.

"Yeah," Frankie starts throwing a careful look at her husband before training her eyes on the doctor again. "We want to keep trying."

"And my suggestions?" Dr. Evans asks matter-of-factly, while Will's grip on Frankie's hand tightens, readying himself to answer the doctor's question.

"We've talked it through, Dr. Evans, and we're gonna focus on each other, and stop obsessing about having a baby." Will tells her.

"I see," the doctor says nodding her head.

"To see if not stressing out about becoming pregnant, will actually help speeding things along," Frankie says. "If that even makes sense," she adds with a careful smile.

"It does." Dr. Evans smiles at them both before replying, "I think you're on the right track actually. You're perfectly healthy Frankie." she tells them. "Avoiding the stress concerning becoming pregnant is also a very good idea; you might also want to try staying in bed for about ten to fifteen minutes following intercourse."

"With my legs in the air, right?" Frankie inquires earning her a quizzical look from Will as well as a smirk. "What?" she asks shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "It's a renowned tip when wanting to get pregnant."

"Could serve as a new position," he grins at her warmly, earning him a swift slap on the arm by his wife.

"Actually," Dr. Evans interrupts their bantering. "That's an old wives' tale; just lay still in bed for about fifteen minutes, and that should do it. Unless of course you would as your husband just suggested like to try out some new positions," she winks at the two of them.

* * *

A couple of months later, Will is sitting in the office at the dead drop when Frankie walks in.

"Honey," he grins at her. "To what do I…," Will's words are cut off when she straddles his lap, pressing her lips against his.

She licks her way into his mouth, grabbing his short hair with her fingers pulling him tighter against her to maximize their bodily contact.

"Thank you," Frankie presses her forehead against his moaning out the words.

"Right back at ya, baby," he quips catching his breath as his hands move up and down Frankie's denim clad thighs.

When he looks at her though, he knows that something has changed. The past couple of months have been great with them just focusing on the two of them, and not the constant pressure that used to surround them when awaiting the result of Frankie peeing on a stick.

"Yeah…?" he asks, both of them secretly knowing what he's asking, but unable to actually get the question past his lips.

"Yup!" she snaps her tongue on the 'p' unable to contain the face-splitting grin on her face.

Curving her arms around his neck, she kisses him on the cheek before uttering the two words he never thought he'd actually get to hear come out of her delectable mouth.

"I'm pregnant."

"I love you, and I can't wait to have this baby with you"

"I love you too Will, so much"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading 🖤 also I would like to say that I in no way shape or form believe that adopting or using a surrogate makes you any less of a woman, I believe that if you want to start a family, you should do it way that you want/have to 🖤 just had to use that to write the story... I meant no offense


	7. Chapter 7

When the words slipped out of his mouth, Will didn't know what made him say it. Maybe it was the scent of her vanilla shampoo, or the way her dark green eyes shone in the dim kitchen light, or how her laugh made his heart soar. Maybe it was how when the words, "Will you marry me," came out of his mouth, she seemed less surprised than he did.

Frankie gently put down the dish and looked at him with a smirk as his cheeks turned tomato red and his jaw hung open. "Excuse me, whiskey, did you just propose to me while doing the dishes?" She asked, almost bemused.

He started to stutter, wiping his wet hands on his pants. "N-n-no?" She raised her eyebrow. "I-I-I I mean yes? Fuck, I did not mean to say that," he cursed, under his breath.

"So you don't want to marry me?" She challenged, shutting off the water. She didn't sound hurt, she didn't sound angry, only a little confused and mostly amused. Which only made Will love her more.

"Frank's, you know how much I love you," he started. And she knew.

"I know," she said, wiping the suds off her hands with a towel. He loved her. He really did. She kept him on his toes, always smiling, laughing, smirking. He felt like he was constantly chasing her, but he didn't mind. It was worth it. _She_ was worth it.

The pair settled into a pregnant pause. She knew she was supposed respond, and say something, say anything. He was starting to rub the back of his neck the same way he did when he got nervous. But she decided to let him sweat it.

She loved the way he looked at her, his big green eyes always trying to read into hers. She loved the way he slept with his windows open in the winter, giving him an excuse to hook his legs over hers and pull her close; or how he would try and crack jokes when they were up at 4 AM after making love all night. She really loved the way he would do anything for her.

They were Frankie and Will. Fiery and Whiskey.

Will brought happiness back into her life, showing her that not everything had to be about revenge.

She knew, from the moment she brought him home to Kelly, that he was the one. He knew it too. Thats why when she said, "I'm not going to marry you Will," he gripped the kitchen counter so hard his knuckled turned white.

"What?" He cried, stepping back from her. He needed air. He couldn't breathe. Had he misread every single step of their relationship? He hadn't meant to ask her like this, but he was definitely planning on it.

"Let me finish," she said, stepping towards him. "I'm not going to marry you right now. When you propose, I'd rather not be wearing sweatpants." He managed to take a breath, nodding at her.

He released the counter, but still looked disappointed at her rejection. "Alright, I understand. Someday," he sighed.

She clutched him tightly, the two swaying in their place. "But you're it for me, so don't worry. When I'm old and wrinkly and can't remember what year it is, you'll be sitting right there next to me. And you know what? I can't wait."

"You know you're it for me to right? You're the only one for me really! I love you so much Frankie, more than I ever thought it was possible to love another person"

"I love you too Will!"


	8. Chapter 8

Frankie wasn't good with emotions. Will knew that. It had taken her a good six months to admit that she felt something romantic towards Will. It had never really bothered him all that much, since typically the way Frankie acted betrayed her emotions anyway, if you knew the women well enough to read her.

And Will did. He knew Frankie inside out by this point. He knew what made her tick, knew what every tiny change of expression meant. He could read Frankie easier than he could read anyone else.

But lately, that hadn't been the case.

Frankie had closed back up, suddenly and without any warning. She had taken to avoiding Will as much as possible, by busying herself with a case. Will had no idea why - as far as he knew, everything had been going well between them - but it was deeply worrying for him.

For Frankie to start acting as if they were complete strangers, as if the past six months between them hadn't really happened, well, it was needless to say Will was bracing himself for the seperation that he never wanted to happen.

"Frankie," Will finally said one evening, staring down at the woman he loved. "We need to talk."

"We are talking, Will," Frankie replied, her voice muffled, as she was facing away from him, sprawled out on the sofa with her back to him.

"You know that's not what I meant," he responded sharply. "You've been acting weird for a week now, and I want to know why."

_No I don't I'm lying please don't leave me I love you._

Frankie rolled over onto her other side, staring up at Will. And all the breath went out of him because she looked so... vulnerable and raw. She sat up slowly, and then stood, pressing herself close to Will.

"I'm sorry," the CIA operative muttered. "You know I don't deal well with my emotions and I didn't know how to handle it when I realised it and, _well_ , I just panicked a bit, really."

She was rambling, thoughtlessly, and it was such an unFrankie thing to do that Will didn't know how to react, so he just stood there and stared down at the beautiful woman in front of him.

"Because I do, you know," she said. "Love you. I know you've been worried that I _don't_ but-"

Will laughed and shook his head, grabbing Frankie by her waist and bending down for a kiss.

"I love you too, you crazy girl," he murmured against her lips and Frankie smiled before proceeding to thoroughly kiss the living daylights of her partner.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the song "Run" by Matt Nathanson feat. Sugarland

_I wanna watch you undress_

Will pulled the straps of Frankie's dress down her shoulders, caressing the skin of her arms. The fabric pooled around her bare feet as she pushed his jacked away from his firm chest. Her hands trailed down his chiseled form, gripping his belt and pulling his body toward her own.

_I wanna watch you glow_

Their kiss was searing, electric, explosive. Tongues clashed in a sensual dance. He walked Frankie backwards until her back hits the wall. Her small hands reached out again, fumbling with the last article of clothing keeping her from Will. He picked her up as his pants fell, and wrapped her legs around his waist, carrying her to the bed, and flopping down on it so that she was on top.

_Let your hair down, all around, and cover us both_

Frankie's hair fell in a curtain around their faces. Their kisses grew desperate, until, finally, she pulled away. Straddling him, she reached behind her back, unhooking her bra, and discarding it across the room. Will sat up, capturing Frankie's mouth with his once more

_You come in a wave, we crash and we roll_

He flipped them, so, this time, he was on top. Somehow, he had gotten rid her panties, and he ground his pelvis into her. The heat and friction caused by made her gasp, and Will, deciding that he quite liked that sound, repeated the action. He moved one hand down and fondled her breast, and the other to caress her sex.

_You surround me, pull me, drown me, swallow me whole_

He pushed a finger inside her, using his thumb to rub her clit. She let out another sound that Will decided he liked, so he continued to thrust his finger into her, curling it and adding another. He reached that magic spot that made her squirm and pounded it. She came hard on his hand.

_You pull me in close, you buckle my knees_

She was still shuddering from her first orgasm as he pulled her legs up so her knees were on either side of her chest. He left open mouthed kisses trailing down her throat, stopping to nip here and there, visibly marking her as his. He paid special attention to her breasts. Then continued downward.

_I shake and I shiver just to feel you breath_

Frankie shuddered as Will dragged his mouth down her oversensitive body. Hot breath ghosted down her torso until he reached her navel, and dipped his tongue in. He stopped at a scar on her hip.

_You trace my lines, stirring my soul_

He outlined the scar with his lips, as if kissing it would make it fade. It had quite the opposite effect. The skin there was extra-sensitive. A warm feeling jolted into her like a kick to the stomach, but much, _much_ more pleasant.

_Shoot sparks at the heart of the world and I watch it explode_

His hot mouth found her aching sex. She felt an electric pleasure shooting through her veins. Will continued to lick, suck, and nibble until she came undone again. She pulled him back up, connecting their lips in a desperate, hungry kiss. One hand moved down his chest, tracing his muscles, before gently gripping his member and guiding it home.

_I'm amazing when you're beside me and I am so much more_

He took her in one, sharp thrust, burring himself inside her. She dug her fingers into his shoulders at the sensation.

_And I feel your finger pound like thunder and I am so much more_

Will fingers dug into Frankie's hips, as he felt her reach a third orgasm. He wasn't far behind her. As he reached his end, he collapsed on top of her, and she clung to him, each riding out their own pleasure.

_Turn, turn, turn, turning me on like a slow fire burn I know that it's wrong still I run, run, run, right back to you_

"I love you," Will murmured.

"I know," Frankie replied, "I love you, too."

_You're turning me on_

_Like_ _slow fire burn_

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of love! 🖤


End file.
